


The Day Will Come as Sure as the Ever-Setting Sun

by toastyCadenza



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Humanstuck, Multi, POV Multiple, Recreational Drug Use, Teen Angst, may induce feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastyCadenza/pseuds/toastyCadenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>admitting your deep set love for guilty pleasure highschool AUs is the first step to accepting that you have a problem</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Ocean and Into the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is p much characterization practice for myself as well as actual writing practice to stick with a piece as well as getting used to actually writing again but yknow knock yourself out read it all you like which probably wont be too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title brought to you by: We Will Fall Together - Streetlight Manifesto  
> first chapter brought to you by: Into the Ocean - Blue October   
> gomen if any feels are induced?

Your name is Gamzee Makara and you can't sleep. 

Jesus, how long have you just been laying here? Oh yeah, you remember you'd decided to stop keeping track of that shit. 

Breathing slowly and deeply, you turn to stare at the ceiling. Your view was slightly obscured by your large velvet canopy, but it wasn't a big deal. You still have a pretty good view of what it was you wanted to see. The soft radiance from the fuck ton of glow in the dark stars you had pasted to your ceiling gave you comfort. They did so for as long as they've been a part of your room, which is since you were fuckin' born, as far as anyone was concerned. 

You remain transfixed for a moment longer before shifting your position in bed for the umpteenth time. At this point, sleep is something you couldn't even bother yourself to hope for. 

As much as you wished you could be frustrated at your current situation, you couldn't. Simple as that. For reasons such as being your chill motherfucking self, you simply aren't apt to gettin' mad and shit. Why should you? It could also probably be because you've just worn out all of your feelings of irritation on the matter already, with how often it happens.. It'd just be a waste of your energy. 

You can't remember much about your childhood, but your sleeping patterns have been this sporatic for as long as you can bring yourself to recall. 

You still aren't entirely sure why your sleeping schedule is so out of fucking wack, but you could venture a guess as to what catalyzed it. 

When you were still just an up and budding little motherfucker in your early years of middle school, all the shit going on with your home life just seemed to get worse and worse as time passed. There were extensive periods o time where your dad would just... leave. When he'd go, and how long he'd be gone always varied -- as if it weren't enough that you couldn't rely on him to be there, you couldn't even count on how long he'd be gone for. Sometimes he bothered to dub his disappearances, "business trips," but more often than not, he didn't even seem to be bothered to give less of a shit. 

It never left your mom in a well state. But of course, how cout it? She'd be too worried to function enough for proper activities, and so upset she'd sap and become agitated at even the most trivial of things. But what really stuck with you was the image of her spindly, cold hands shaking near-violently whenever she stroked your hair to soothe the pair of you. In your recollection, the closest match of her voice you could play back in your head was with that overpowering tremble that came from the bottom of her throat. Even through all of the anxiety, you could tell that she tried to keep it hidden. It seemed she so desperately wanted to be able to be strong enough for the both of you... You'd always admired her for that. 

Things had already gotten well out of hand by the time your mom decided she was finally done. Done with everything, and all the bullshit she was going through. It was definitely for the best, you thought, but you weren't expecting things to turn out quite how they did. 

Your father had been home for a whole six consecutive days by the time she got the muster to say anything. But what she said, you'll never know. 

Nothing about school that day stuck out as significant to you, thinking back. It was just another more-than-average milling school day of skidding by on bare minimum and dicking around with your pals. 

Walking home from the bus stop, you didn't initially notice anything remotely out of the ordinary. Wearing your signature slouch, you allowed your head to droop and your rather unkempt hair slid from under the confines of your hoodie and fanned out in front of your eyes. This didn't really matter to you, probably due to the fact that your eyelids were so heavy that they had you shifting back and forth between consciousness. You were going on your fourth day of not having slept, and it was usually around day three that things start going hazy. You were completely relaxed, embracing your current state of mind. 

It wasn't until the sound of a sharp crunch under your foot made its way up to your ears that you realized something was off. 

Practically fighting yourself to lift your eyelids open, you looked up, lazily pushing your hood back and stopped dead in your tracks. What the name of hell were you looking at? 

You remained still as you took in the scene you were just presented with. 

The screen was popped out of the front door, the door itself hung haphazardly from its hinges. The patio table was knocked over, and trailing sparingly from it were shards of broken glass. Instinctively your eyes darted to your own feet, and sure enough you see sparkling pieces beneath your foot. 

It took you more than a good minute to process all of this. What in the name of fuck happened? You silently hope that you're just hallucinating. 

Slowly you brought your gaze up to burn into the man at the center of this mess. 

Your father sat unmoving on the porch step, forehead in one hand and cigarette in the other. 

The first thing you felt was anger. Not surprisingly, of course. Your lips parted -- you wanted to scream and yell and cuss at him, and you wanted it to hurt and sting him in his very core, but no words came out. You didn't know exactly what you'd have said, to begin with. Your mind was reeling, working harder than what was usually comfortable. "What the ever loving _fuck."_  was all you could manage. 

No response came from your father which surged your anger, but you notice his shoulders slump lower and his fingertips curl, gripping tight on his hair. Was he... honestly guilty? 

You took a few halfhearted steps toward him, for lack of a better idea of what to do in that second. He still said nothing, but took several more drags of his cigarette. 

A few more moment's silence pass before a noise made by your father cuts through the air like a cleaver to partially defrosted poultry, breaking the quiet. That's all it was: a noise. Something that would have otherwise been incomprehensible in terms of conversation, but you knew exactly what that pain-filled sough was. Your father was choking back tears.

You took another step toward him, suddenly overwhelmed with pity and what might have been a hint of concern. "Dad...?" You have no idea what to say. 

It didn't take much time to pass before he broke down right in front of you. It was like all of the willpower had just gone. Not forcibly, but like he had just decided to give in. 

"She left us, Gam... She just motherfucking up and _left_ us." His voice quaking, he didn't even look at you when he spoke. You could see his face twist and distort from the strain. 

What? But...

For a second you forgot how to breathe. 

Your entire body went rigid and the life was vacuumed right out of you. How could it be true? Suddenly you felt more exhausted and weak than you had in your entire life. But you thought... You thought she'd take you with her. 

And fuck, a lump started to set up camp in the back of your throat. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your fists, it felt like you'd been walloped in the stomach. Repeatedly. 

Before you had any time to stop yourself, the first tear rolled down your cheek.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rolls up sleeves  
> this flash back isn't over just yet kids  
> prepare your anu-- i mean,  
> reading glasses  
> ovo


	2. An Empty Home, A Vacant Shell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a brief bit in the beginning that's something akin to a sober!gamzee. (???)  
> nothing violent, though. shrugs. ._.  
> next chapter i'll throw in a different pov, it won't be gamzee ok. ok. sweet (guess who? :3c)  
> not to mention the next chapter won't be nearly as slow even if it kills me  
> 

It wasn't how things were meant to go down. This was never supposed to happen. You were supposed to go off with your mom and be happy -- _together._  This is all wrong this is all wrong this is all wrong this is all w r o n g ...

Your dad lets go of whatever last thread of a leash he had on himself and is full on sobbing. The sound of his weakly suppressed grunts and wails infect your eardrums and it makes you sick. Your jaw clenches and you stood stock-still, feeling your center fill up with fire, and the fire spreads steadily over your whole body. Every ounce of your being was consumed by uncontrollable _rage_. The hair on the back of your head was practically vibrating and you were so hot you swore your eyes must have been tinged red. 

The expression you wear widens into a macabre grin and from the back corner of your mind you wonder what it is you're going to do, exactly. It's like someone set you to autopilot and all you could do was sit back and watch in anticipation. 

"You MOTHERFUCKING bastard," you snarl, and he doesn't even look up at you, he just chokes out another sob. Weak. "What all up and gave you THE FUCKING GUMPTION to go and annihilate THE ONLY MOTHERFUCKING THING that I had?" You spit out your words, the morbid grin of your mouth growing wider still. You tower over him, your arms open slightly at your sides, and threateningly so. 

His head rolls from side to side in his hands and he slumps lower and lower. Any lower and he may as well be kneeling, you think. He still hasn't bothered to look at you, the tool. 

"LOOK AT ME." You howl out, and he sinks a bit lower before he lifts his head up in a timid manner. 

With fluid yet theatrical motion you scoop up a shard of broken glass from the ground and shuffle a step in his direction. You notice his nostrils flare and his glassy, swollen eyes widen, and that makes the malice-soaked smile creep its way back onto your face. 

"WHAT IS IT that makes you so MOTHERFUCKIN' RIGHTEOUS as to just up and push her away?!" Your voice rumbles across the negative space that stood between you and he. Your teeth gnarled and your heaving breaths make you hunch a bit. 

His eyebrows raised inward, pleading, his eyes still painted with shock. He opens his mouth and pauses. For his sake, he'd better start groveling at your feet for forgiveness (even though it wouldn't be nearly enough). He couldn't get back what he lost. 

"Gam..." He breathed. "I tried getting her to _stay._ " His forehead wrinkles. 

Your face contorts with contempt. "LIAR." You growl with the venom of a cobra. That is not something you can believe. ..No, wait. You rethink yourself: you wouldn't have such a hard time believing it so much if it were because he'd had an affair. Your eyes widen and you point at him with the glass shard, you see your hand shaking with rage in front of you. "No, you had an affair, I just clicked everything all together. I'VE CRACKED THE MOTHERFUCKING PUZZLE. You went and slept with someone else... and then HAD THE MOTHERFUCKING AUDACITY to try getting her to stay with your ill-fated ass." You just completely erupt, shouting so loudly you swore you somehow got strep throat in that minute. 

He blinked, processing. "I didn't go and cheat on your mom." He stated delicately, beginning to stand up. He was a head taller than you, but you might as well have been eye level with him. 

"What did you just say? ...WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?" You huff, wrinkles creasing on your nose. You wanted to rip that jaw right off his face. 

In less than a second everything went dark. Pitch black; it was inky and warm and more dark than the bottom of a Pringles. Why is shit all thick with darkness suddenly? 

You take a deep breath and the subtle stench of cologne and cigarette smoke, with a dash of old sweater, put you at ease. It was like roots started sprouting from the underside of your feet, it was all very grounded and stable. You hum quietly to yourself. 

Sounds started tuning in and out like airwaves. You listen, not paying too much attention. "So sorry...never meant...I wish I'd...just know...never even dream of doing such a thing...it'll be okay...not your fault." 

You didn't waste your brain power trying to work out the fragments or make sense of them. 

In a short silence, all feeling came flooding back to your system. You open your eyes (weakly), greeted with a shoulder. Or, more specifically, your father's shoulder, accompanied by the light pressure of fingers that meant he was petting your hair. A tingling sensation is sent in shivers across your scalp. 

What had just happened? You... weren't quite sure. Or sure at all, really. From what you could recollect, you had discovered the departing of your mother. Now though, your dad is hugging you? It was odd, but eh. If that's what was up, then so motherfuckin' be it. Hugs are nice, whatever. 

Your mouth pulls down at the thought of your mom abandoning you sinks in, and you find yourself returning the hug. 

The hugging doesn't really last long. 

And then things got kinda quiet. Woah wait, there was that one thing that you were wondering about. 

"What was having you to up and disappear of spontaneous occasions?" You asked, conflicted feelings battling it out on how you should feel about the things you'd 'known' to be true your entire life. 

He heaves a sigh. "Sometimes I just get a certain way that's all real uncontrollable. It up and hits me on the most full of velocities. Makes it so I'm not like myself." His rough voice was soft, and sort of low. Kinda like he didn't exactly want you to know even this vague bit of info. He tried putting it as lightly as he could, but serious enough to tell that it was sort of a weird subject. "The whole everything of it was me wanting safety for you. Had it been something happen to you, I didn't want to be the one that made it happen. See?" He finishes. You know it wasn't an honest question and he was probably not even expecting an answer, but you felt obliged. 

"I have the whatnot down from that, man."  You assure, and wonder why you feel the need to do this.

You tell yourself that if you were meant to find out more about this whole.. whatever it was, then you'd learn more about it in time, when you were meant to. And you also tell yourself that it was this moment that you were meant to find out about it in the first place, otherwise you'd have discovered it a lot sooner. 

You both continued back into the house, not bothering in the slightest with the huge mess that coated your front lawn. -- 

With as little as you can actually remember about your childhood, something about how things turned out makes sense. You only remember being with your mom so much when your dad's absences became more frequent. You also note that the way you talk is pretty much directly descended from your father. And... thinking about it now, that entire incident was almost 4 years ago. Man. You're 17 now, and so much has changed since then, you don't even want to think about it. 

Cradling your arms under your head, you just stare unblinking at the dimmed stars on your ceiling. They looked helluva lot more dim than they were five minutes ago, you're sure. ...Maybe you were just enveloped by a haze whilst lost in thought? Not that it mattered, anyway. Oh well. Man you really wish you could just nod off already yeaah that'd be nice. Alas, you very well know that it just wasn't gonna happen any time soon, quit thinking about it so much. Nooooooott gonna haaaappenn....

Holy shit was that?? 

Yeah it most definitely was. 

There are already birds chirping outside your window. 

Damn, time seems to just fly on by. Always. Time is always inching forward and it feels fast to you when you look at it like this but you remember how slow time seems to move when you actually sleep. Or toke, for that matter. Fuckin sleep deprivation, making the days blend together. Yeah, you're not even confident about what day of the week it is might be. 

You prop up on an elbow, panning your room with heavily lidded eyes. Looks like it's time to play The Which-Pair-of-Pants-Did-You-Leave-Your-Phone-In Game. Oh, it was a great thrill of a game, but the graphics left something to be desired, leaving the ambience of the whole experience rather lackluster. Yeee. 

You take your time scooting out of bed, stretching out like a clumsy ass cat with big feet. Then it's time to sift through the ocean of laundry that shrouded your floor. This mostly just means that you blindly feel around and grope for the bulged pockets of every pair of pants you manage to see. To your luck, you found your phone before ten minutes even hit. Yeah, feeling around a floor that is ankle-deep in pants, it's ended up taking a damn long time in the past. 

It's Thursday. You should probably get to school at some point. 

That wasn't actually a huge concern to you. First of all, you hadn't slept. Just because you happened to be awake at the same time that birds started chirping and the sky turned various shades of every color, doesn't mean that you were gonna be on-time to school. Secondly, your dad wasn't around for the time being. He still disappeared from time to time, and you still didn't quite get it, but you didn't question it. You were pretty good at taking care of yourself. Or at least, as good as you needed to be. Even when you were still a family, you ended up taking care of your mom a lot more than she took care of you. Hell, you were good at taking care of people, probably exceptional! It's just that when it came to yourself, well -- in simplest terms, you put others as a priority before yourself.

What were you getting at in the first place again? 

You're zoning out way too often. Like holy shit. You think you just legit for a full on 5 minutes stared at a pattern detail from a poster on your wall. This is a thing that should probably not happen but you kind of don't want to stop from happening. Oh well. 

You bum around your house for a little while longer because you didn't feel like being anywhere yet. It wasn't that you were avoiding school, because you really don't hold a grudge against the schooling system, it's just that, well... you'd rather not be there? No, no, it wasn't that either. You did enjoy actually _being_  at school, you were able to see your friends and all that, but you suppose it all felt very patronizing to you. The staff and superiors, you mean. You were a normally easy-going person, but all those teachers, man. They were repressive and it made you uncomfortable. You wouldn't feel so bad about it if they could just chill.. Not to mention all the technicalities in learning, vacuuming the miracles out of anything that would have otherwise been interesting. 

While twiddling a few strands of your disheveled head of hair, you distractedly check the time on your phone and see that noon is soon approaching. Might as well just get yourself to school already. 

You don't really have anything you particularly think you need for school, do you? ..Nah. You're almost certain it's safe to say you won't be needing much. You're tempted to just not bring anything. But no that's dumb so instead you grab a deep eggplant shade drawstring bag, stick a notebook and a pencil in it, along with a Moon Mist Blue faygo (for later -- you wouldn't wanna go to school unprepared. They're always saying to come prepared, right?) All of your valuables (phone, wallet, lighter) remain in your pants pocket. This entire process took all of 4 minutes, then you're pulling on a hoodie you picked up (from.. somewhere?) and walking out the back door. 

The school isn't all too far from the Makara residence, so long as you cut through a small patch of forest, which was on the other side of a tallgrass field behind your neighborhood. It takes you about 20 minutes to walk the whole distance, which is really not even long at all so who even cares. 

Wellp, there it is, that school you've ended up spending so little time in, you wouldn't be surprised if people thought you were a new student. Okay, that was an over-exaggeration. You weren't really gone that much, of course. That would be bad. ...Also, when you put into consideration that you have a lot of friends, there's that too. 

Er, yeah, friends. (You aren't exactly sure on whether or not all of them see you as a friend or not. Which kinda sucks ok.) 

You walked up to the school, kind of hopping each step of the way. It was time for you to go through your regular routine of getting a late note from attendance, waiting until the lunch bell rang, and meeting up with your friends. 

Ms. Whittle, who worked the attendance desk, was on a first name basis with you. Since you always come to school late. At least, on the days that you do come in. You'll often have conversations with Ms. Whittle which usually last longer than it takes for her to write out your tardy note. She was a really friendly old lady who always wore shirts with cats on them (and if it wasn't cats, it was fairies). 

"What is _uuuuup_ Cheryll?" You greeted her, slumping up against the wall across her. She smiled up at you with her tiny little face. 

"Good afternoon, Gamzee." She's set her pen down, so you know she's done with your note, but she doesn't reach up to hand it to you and that usually meant it was time to chat. "You didn't come to school yesterday." She pointed out in a polite tone, not giving you a hard time or lecturing you like anyone else would have. Cheryll Whittle was the only staff member you've seen yet to not be condescending in any way, so naturally you warmed up to her fast. After having talked so much, she found out about your father's disappearances, and you learned of her husband's institutionalization two years ago. She seemed to care about you a lot, and you think she filled in that spot that was left by your mother. 

You bow your head just a bit at her. "Sorry 'bout that, I up and got all motherfuckin'... Distracted." That was always your excuse with Cheryll, it was like distraction as a whole was a running gag with you two. She breathed a laugh and shook her head mockingly, not bothering to scold you for fowl language. 

"I'm just going to inform you that it's the first quarter of the school year and you already have 9 absences."

You squint really hard and raise your chin, thinking. You'd try to add up all the days you missed, but it's too much effort. "Only nine?" You considered, pondering. You actually would have bet your money on more. 

"Gamzee sweetheart, I know your father isn't always around to help you out but I fear you won't pass the grade if you continue on like this for the rest of the school year." She warned, keeping her friendly tone even. But she frowned at you a bit, and it was enough to make you feel bad. "I just want the best for you, deary." She sighed. 

You rubbed the back of your neck. "I'm about to be of tryin' my shitting best." You beam at her reassuringly and she smiles at you, small but sincere. 

"Oh, hun! You didn't happen to see anyone wandering around or looking lost, did you?" She urged you. 

"Nah, is something going on?" You question back. 

She busied herself with something on the computer. "Ah, a new student enlisted and was supposed to start classes today, but he hasn't shown up on attendance yet, so I presumed he must have gotten himself lost." She told you distractedly. 

"I could all be keeping lookout about that noise." You offer, "If you need." 

"That would be lovely dear thank you for being so helpful." 

"Ah shit, s'no hassle." You let her know, approaching her desk to retrieve your late note. 

She gives you the late note with a wave and wishes you a good day, and you do the same in return. Not much to do now until the bell rings for lunch, so instead of just hanging around smoking in the first floor bathroom, you decide to walk a lap around the school. 'Cause hey, maybe you'll see that kid she's looking for. Whoever it is. 

You only walk once around the first floor and cover half of the second floor before giving up and deciding to chill in one of the bathrooms outside of your best friend's fourth period classroom untill the bell rings, and maybe (definitely) have a smoke break while you're in there. 

Except, oddly enough, it seemed that the restroom had already been occupied for that very reason. The door to the handicapped stall was shut and you could smell smoke so potent, you didn't need to see the sparse clouds to know that the occupant of said stalls was burning one. 

Slouched, you walked up to the stall and casually knocked on the door. "Mind if I join bro?" 

There was no answer, but you heard some movement through the silence and then the click of the stall door being unlocked. You'd thought it would have been one of your friends, but you came face to face with a boy you'd never met before. And why was he wearing shades indoors? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter brought to you by Harsh Realm - Widowspeak.  
> gomen for my silly attempts at 'serious' writing when im trying to be serious..??? orz


	3. Rebirth of Slick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read shades and immediately thought of dave, you'd be correct.  
> also yeah chapter lengths are gonna be sporadic as fuqqqq gomen u_u

Your name is Dave Strider, and who's this douche bag?

The universe apparently did not want to see you relaxed for more than 30 minutes at a time. Was it asking so much to want time alone to enjoy a spliff? Just one, that's all. But no, it appeared you weren't allowed to finish something as simple as that before being graced with someone's presence. You've already been intruded upon on several occasions, and you figured this'd end up being that same crabby asshole who stopped in before fourth period and smoked half a Marlboro Blue. Nonetheless, this obviously wasn't that guy again. (You inwardly express appreciation for this, and hope that this dude isn't bad enough that you're wishing for the petulant short kid instead).

Whoever it is you're looking at stands a few inches taller than you and looks like he slept with make up on. But like, a full fucking face of make up. And you could tell he wasn't even looking directly at you, with those half lidded eyes. "Haha woah, sorry bro. I thought you'd be some other motherfucker." It occurred to you that maybe he was expecting to find 'Small and Angry' instead of a stranger. 

"I'd have hoped so, otherwise knocking on a stall door asking to join in would be a rather fuckin' odd request." You replace your free hand to it's rightful place in your pocket and add, "If it weren't so obvious I was smoking in 'ere, o' course." 

Lanky starts rubbing the back of his neck and amazingly his gaze becomes even more out-of-focus. "Ah, shit." He laughs, "I didn't even fuckin' think about that!"  It wasn't even really funny, but he gave a hearty laugh anyway. Guy was probably just easily amused. It wouldn't surprise you. 

You didn't really bother yourself with saying anything in response -- it's not like you even knew who he was. Plus, it was him that knocked in the first place. If he wanted to still join you for a spark, that was all on him. In your deliberate silence, you simply take a drag from the spliff, paying gratuitous attention to your movement so that you don't seem too tentative.

He doesn't say anything either for a bit, staring off with the sort of smile on his faces that would lead people to think he was under the influence. Which, again, you wouldn't put past him. 

You sighed internally -- this is all well and good, but standing around in silence isn't exactly enjoyable. Especially making sure not to forget that you were sorta stressed out as it was. (Not that you'd admit it, especially to someone you didn't even know). You were perfectly justified in the stress though, since there was actually something that induced it. Shouldn't be that hard to figure out, either. Moving half way across the country, as well as starting a new school? _In **addition** to _ moving in with two people you'd never even met in person... and they were _female._  How were you supposed to get away with half the shit you used to, now? 

Your eyes roll dramatically from behind your shades. Was this guy gonna say something? Your patience can only go so far when your buzz is being dampened.

"Are you uh, are you that kid that was all supposed to start classes today?" His voice was scratchy and his words slurred in such a way that the distinction between each word was somehow easy to catch. But no, the way his voice sounded when he spoke wasn't important. (Why was it even worth mentioning?) It's _what_ he said that really got your attention.

It'd be one thing, to be asked if you were new. Understandable, since it was obvious he's never seen you before (and vise versa). But this guy... this guy makes it sound like he already knew there was supposed to be a new kid. Which shouldn't be a thing yet. Or at all.

The fucking new kid. How laughable -- you're sure that title won't be sticking around for long. That didn't make it any less a hassle, though.

"Who wants to know?" You inquire out of caution. Who was he to just know shit about you when you don't have a single scrape on him?

"Th'name's Gamzee Makara, brother. Mind fillin' me in at who all it is I'm talking to then?" His voice glided over the words but you couldn't help but notice... 

"Gamzee? The name your mother decided to don upon you, after spending 9 months in her womb, however many years ago you were popped outta her crotch.. is _Gamzee?_ " You let out a curt breath as a laugh -- perhaps even a scoff, who's to say. The hell kind of a name is Gamzee? What region of the world did this guy even come from? You continue on before he gets a word in, "Never in my life have I heard a name quite like yours, guy. Gamzee Makara..." You let the words roll off your tongue. "Everybody got crazy names like that up here? S'it a northern thing with you guys 'er something?" Not that you'd consider the Cincinnati region _north,_  per se. After the brief spout, you indulge another drag.

Makara lets his eyes lid over even more and his chin juts out a bit with a dopey grin. "Well I mean I guess'so. I never really thought about it." 

There seems to be a lot this guy doesn't think about. Either way, you figure you'll just be polite and introduce yourself properly. "Me, I'm Dave. Full name: Dave Motherfuckin' Strider." You smirk, "No shit man, say's so on my birth certificate. And yeah, I'm new. But I'm not the only new kid today, I'll have you know." You drawl, the fact that you're the one carrying the bulk of the conversation becoming increasingly apparent.  

Smudge-face perks up a bit. "Uh -- really? Someone else 's all startin up new today also?" He asks, even though you obviously already said that was the case. "They a sibling of yours, or something?" 

Ah, he's catching on. "Naw, not quite." You make a vague gesture like you're batting away his guess. You offer him your spliff, in preparation to go off on a tangent. "Naw.. It's a fuckin' weird, long story, but I'll offer the cliff notes to ya'. My bro -- older bro, guy's practically my dad, raised me since I was a poo machine in diapers -- he's been having this internet relationship with some broad up 'round Potsdam in New York. I'm not sure how long it's been going on, I've only known about it for a few months. Well, he and the dame decide they wanna move in together, do a family-type deal. But they're both fuckin' nuts and decided to move halfway from each residence, instead of high-routin' the simple solution of us moving into their already adequately sized house up in New York. So I came all the way up here from Houston to move in with this chick, and her daughter. Yeah, the chick's got a daughter. Same age, too." You finish, leaning up against the side of the stall. 

Gamzee's finishing up a hit of your spliff, the thing is practically roached as he hands it back to you with a, "Thanks, bro." You jerk a nod of welcome before finishing it off. You add the ashed roach to the old cigarette tin you have sitting in your back pocket.

"Fuuuuck man, that's some heavy shit my brother." Makara comments as he exhales a cloud of smoke. "Who's the sister you're roomin' with, eh?" 

One side of your mouth pulls up in a subtle grimace at the thought. "Rose." Your response is terse.

"Well uhh, you aren't all marked of the attendance list bro." Gamzee adds, almost as a forgotten point. Like it was something you cared about. 

You were perfectly fine with your method of dealing with stress: complete avoidance. 

"Feh, I'll get to it when I do." You bat away the thought with your hand again. "Interesting making your acquaintance, Makara." And with that comment (careful to pick a sufficient word for this encounter), you've declared this little powwow as done. Just in time for the bell, it seems.

"Oh -- ah, ditto, bro." Makara smiles at you and it's rather sincere, you're not sure what to do with it. 

So of course, you do what you know to do, and offer your hand. "Dap me up, man." 

You exchange daps and Makara turns in a slick motion and shuffles out of the bathroom, paced like he didn't really have anywhere to go.

And if you didn't know any better, you'd bet he really didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this week's chapter brought to you by: Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat) - Digable Planets.  
> i should just go through and edit in all the inspiration songs and etc. eh?  
> next chapter's POV I'm just gonna reveal now it's gonna be rose. :B


	4. From Deranged to Divine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now for the pov of rose~  
> i was excited for this idk why its not like i had anything big planned i just u_u  
> rly was looking forward to writing for rose ok orz  
> plus yay pesterlogs wooo

Your name is Rose Lalonde and your patience is currently walking a taut rope as you get an earful from the student aide.

If it had been up to you, there would have been no _move_ , of this you are certain (of course, this fact is a given). You wouldn't be forced to leave the comfort of your secluded New York abode, least of all in exchange for a middle class -- and quite frankly mediocre -- home on the edge of Ohio. It was no doubt a downgrade in every respect. You'd been living in passive-aggressive tainted luxury your entire life only to be traded for the 'suburban family lifestyle'. It sort of made you a bit queasy to think about it for too long -- you made a feeble attempt to bat away that particular cloud of thought, only to be proven futile in your efforts. 

You sigh, a tad more audibly than you had meant to, resting pointed chin on delicate wrist. The student aide politely but awkwardly rattled on about the in-and-outs of the school, as if she wasn't sure whether to set her tone at helpfully enthusiastic or understanding and sarcastic. The bulk of her words barely penetrated your surface -- you felt no need to be well acquainted with your new school or its various programs. If need arise, you had methods of collecting information all your own. At current notice, your mind was busy elsewhere.

Your mother, bless her poor inebriated soul, had taken upon herself to 'check out' the whole 'online dating deal'. (Whether with intentions of getting under your skin, you still aren't sure). Somehow, through alcohol-soaked charm and possibly some sneaky mind game behind the scenes, she managed to ensnare some sad, foolish sod that didn't know what he was getting himself into. By your prediction, you saw the relationship lasting only through a few dates sprinkled with a couple of occasions of poor judgement and weakly suppressed shame.

It might have been a sound vision, until you learned that your mother's suitor resided in Houston, Texas (of all places). Oh ho, but that's not all! He came accompanied with a teenage responsibility that just happened to be exactly your age. What a pure delight you had stumbled upon.

Your mother ended up maintaining a long distance relationship rather impressively for a few months, during which she also took it upon herself to badger you relentlessly into introducing yourself to the boy.

"Aww, c'mon Rose!" Her words slurred together, the syllables becoming lost in translation. She also spoke at a volume that would suggest she were at a construction site. "Why's you gotta be sucha' tight ass? Rooooooooose! Camaaaaaaawn, doet fer your momma."

"Mother, if I humor you, shall you cease howling at me with the likeness of an alley cat absurdly perched atop a yard fence? The threat of a boot being thrown is drawing ever near." You hadn't bothered to glance up from your cross-stitching.

The woman flung herself at you, cooing and raving about how your compliance donned you, "The bestest daughter to have gotten stretch marks for," promptly informing you of the boy's screen name, and staggering off, martini glass in hand.

You figured you might as well humor your own curiosity, since you've gotten yourself thus far. Mildly bemused, you brought up the chat client on your already-opened laptop and began typing.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

TT: Greetings and salutations, I do hope I'm not being too formal. I'm found unaware of whatever it is your taste regularly palettes.  
TG: uh  
TG: ok yo  
TG: it looks like im gonna be bothered to ask who the fuck it is im talking to here  
TG: cus that purple text looks heavily infused with some strong overpowering flowery perfume  
TG: that id definitely remember chatting with in the past  
TG: but lets skip that part and instead you just tell me who this is  
TT: Rose.  
TT: Rose Lalonde, rather, if I'm being politely cordial.  
TG: are you being cordial  
TT: I just thought I'd be polite, seeing as our respective guardians are, and I quote, "dating".  
TT: Long distance, no less.  
TT: And have been for, oh, the better part of the last three months I'd venture. I take it you were informed?  
TG: oh shit  
TT: Eloquently put.  
TG: no no no no no  
TG: no  
TG: my bro  
TG: the same guy that runs a grody porn site of smut puppets  
TG: and keeps his shitty weaponry where we should be keeping boxes of mac n cheese or cold pop  
TG: managed to snag himself some broad  
TG: who has to either be gullible as shit or stupid enough to believe that the sun shines outta his ass  
TG: and lock that shit down for as long as 3 months  
TG: ...  
TG: ????  
TT: Gracious, and all this time I had been under the impression that my mother was the haughty wench.  
TT: Alas, you have single-handedly cleared me of my every doubt.  
TT: Our guardians are truly a perfect match for each other. Simply adjacent pieces in a puzzle of amour.  
TG: why whats up with your mom  
TG: or is this like a boo hoo mommy issues type deal  
TG: mommy didnt hug you enough as a kid and now that you know the shocking and grotesque truth about her man candy  
TG: you can secure such fatal info away and watch bitter and victorious as mommy slowly unearths the ugly truth  
TG: that her boyfriend is a strife crazy phallic puppet loving otaku with a penchant for using sick mind games to traumatize and personally scar his little bro  
TT: Why had I not thought of such tactics myself?  
TT: Thank you, for you have shown me the way. I am forever in your gratitude.  
TT: ...  
TT: Sorry, you never revealed to me your name.  
TG: ha was wondering when youd ask  
TG: its dave  
TG: last name strider  
TG: learn it well that names a legend of the ages  
TT: I'll take you at your word.  
TT: As for my mother, the woman is a notorious alcoholic that veils behind a bubbly and pleasant demeanor to cloak the conniving wit she really possesses.  
TG: heavy  
TT: Indeed. Not to mention she's near unmatched in passive-aggressive psychological warfare. She's so well versed that, from time to time, even I have difficulty determining sincerity from mind trick. The harlot.  
TG: sounds like grade a mommy issues you got there  
TG: my advice is to start wearing black lipstick and raccoon esque eyeliner  
TG: and get a club card to the nearest hot topic stat  
TG: if youre going for authenticity carry around a notebook of gloomy poetry  
TG: convert to be vegan for added effect  
TT: What a picture you have painted, Strider. It's as if I can see the rest of my life lay before me, not but images in a fondly shameful scrapbook, only to be tucked away and forgotten until a curious child of a new generation were to stumble upon it by accident.  
TT: You're truly paving the road ahead of me, I don't know how I'd have managed without you.  
TG: im betting you wished you contacted me sooner  
TG: youre finally beginning to realize just how god awful you were getting along before talking to life guide dave strider  
TG: and now that youve tasted that sweet glass of apple juice  
TG: its like you never wanna drink anything else ever again  
TG: fuck who even needs orange juice  
TG: orange juice is for douchewangles that dont have a motherfucking life guide to steer them  
TG: i am the life guide it is me  
TT: Drat, you've seen right through me.  
TT: I couldn't fathom going on without knowing I'll always have Dave Strider to help me through life and all its hardships.  
TT: As it seems I was just strategizing a plan of action that would allow for me to get a hold of you at any and all times, merely because I can not bear to go back to my days in barbaric dismay. A heathen who had nary a drop of the delectable apple juice that is Dave Strider's brilliant guidance.  
TT: In fact, I think I may have just experienced a spiritual awakening.  
TG: thats the spirit  
TG: not to worry though ill be here  
TG: but not like all the damn time  
TG: i mean what do you expect im a busy guy with busy shit i have to attend to  
TG: on top of dealing with bros bullshit  
TG: and running a blog  
TG: and keeping up with my own lyrical genius yaknow im always having to spill rhymes  
TG: else my rapping gets rusted  
TT: My what a packed schedule, it's a wonder you manage such prestigious responsibilities with smooth finesse and ease.  
TT: This is me applauding you.  
TG: be a little less impressed would ya  
TG: dont want that drool to dribble off your chin or nothing  
TT: I'll do my best. On another note, you've proven to be a rather interesting chat, Strider. It's been nice speaking with you.  
TT: I propose if our guardians were to part their separate ways, that we should stay in touch nonetheless.  
TT: I suspect you to be an amusing companion indeed.  
TG: yea ok sounds good to me  
TG: i mean fuck it who knows  
TG: maybe one day well get to meet or somethin  
TT: Careful now, you almost seemed hopeful there for a moment.  
TG: jack shit i dont know the meaning of hopeful  
TG: in fact i had to look it up just to grasp what you were trying to spout at me  
TG: wait where the fuck are you from anyway  
TT: My mother and I live in a small manor in New York state.  
TT: North, up by Potsdam. It's rather private.  
TG: o u fancy huh  
TG: u reeeaal fancy  
TT: If that's what you'd like to call it.  
TG: alright lalonde i got important shit to do so why dont you skeedaddle  
TG: and im gonna ollie on outtie  
TG: peace  


\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

He retreated from the chat client before you even had a chance at farewell.

-

Mother Lalonde and Bro Strider kept going strong for about another two months before coming to the decision of moving in together. You knew it was too hasty to make those sort of decisions, but arguing with your mum when she's dead set on something is always a lost cause. She's a stubborn brat, and you were all too aware of it.

At the time it was mentioned, it had been more or less an idea that the couple would entertain the thought of. About a month after the idea had come to fruition, it turned into a set plan (much to your dismay). Upon the joyous news, you simply assumed that the Strider gentlemen would be heading north -- seeing as your house was far bigger than their apartment, it was the sensible solution. This didn't bother you all that entirely, when considering that you'd be safe in a familiar setting, just with some new faces. You had somehow forgotten the fact that your sadistic mother found glee in driving you batshit up the walls, so of course it wasn't going to be that simple. Nothing ever was.

"Dirky-poo calculated the destination!" Mom exclaimed, absolutely tickled pink. You openly cringed at the pet name. "Cincinnati, Ohio is _factually_ right in the betweeny of Houston and Potsdam!" She went exuberantly on, filled with a sort of drunken excited sternness that told me I had no say in the matter. "And then you're gonnas be able to meet David! Awww, won't that be nice and stuff?"

It physically pained you, how wrong it all was. If Bro Strider had actually calculated Cincinnati, Ohio as the midpoint of Houston and Potsdam, then you presumed he calculated it simply by opening Google Maps and pointing to what appeared to be the middle. You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Mother, put down the wine for a minute. And then stand up straight, put on your sober goggles, and look around. Just for a second. Do you see this house, Mom? Do you realize what we'll be giving up?" I pleaded, desperate for any way out of this horrible fate.

"Ohhpffft!! Don't be silly, I'm not frucking selling this house, you goose. We have a crap pile 'a money in the bank gatherin' dust, it won't hurt us ok? See? Problem concluded!" You wonder if the jury would nullify your case of domestic murder out of pity. Maybe, if they could see what you've been putting up with for more than sixteen years.

"Alright, I give up." You start rubbing your temples. "When do you plan on this happening, exactly?"

"Aaaahh...." She trailed off, theatrically tapping a spindly index finger against her chin to feign actual thought and draw suspense. You were immune. "A little more than a week?" She stated, with importance emphasized much like she were placing an order at a drive in. You could have bashed your head in, but still kept your patience.

"I suppose I'll start packing, then." You sighed purposely loudly, retreating back to your bedroom for fear you'd develop an ulcer from listening to another second of her shrill voice.

Packing was most certainly not at all what you had in mind upon entering your room and taking your place atop the duvet of your bed. What you _did_ have in mind, however, was getting a hold of Dave.

You opened your laptop with purpose, making no hesitation to open the Pesterchum chat client. To your pleasant surprise, it looked as though Dave had tried contacting you first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter title brought to you by: do you - carina round  
> this was me, playing around with writing pesterlogs, hope i did ok :B


	5. Fighting Fame is Fabled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter, the bulk of which is pesterchum wah

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

TG: rose rose rose  
TG: i just heard the funniest fucking thing ok  
TG: my bro was just telling me  
TG: and i gotta tell you its a fucking riot  
TG: you will double over in laughter when you hear this it fucking killed me  
TG: im dead im a ghost now  
TG: you are now receiving messages from the beyond  
TG: no really this is hilarious you have to hear  
TG: i mean youre the only one i know that will get it i mean  
TG: since it kinda involves you a bit  
TG: indirectly  
TG: so almost not at all  
TG: especially cuz its a joke  
TG: rose  
TG: rooooooooose  
TG: ...  
TG: r o s e  
TT: Woah there, Dave.  
TT: There's no need to call in the specialized forces, I'm here.  
TT: What was it that you'd like to share with me?  
TG: oh man rose  
TG: oh man im laughing just thinking about it  
TG: ok so i was strifing with bro earlier  
TG: and then we took a break and he started telling me  
TG: little man  
TG: soon well be entering womanly territory  
TG: and i was like wtf ok cryptic  
TG: so i snorted and said  
TG: what in fuck loving hell does that mean  
TG: and he fucking  
TG: claps a god damn hand on my shoulder  
TG: and says  
TG: i fuckin mean were gonna move  
TG: of course i just started laughing  
TG: like really howling  
TG: and i said yeah right ok  
TG: where then  
TG: oh yea and why  
TT: Ah, Dave.  
TG: no interruptions lalonde  
TG: shut your perfumey trap and pay attention this is the good part  
TG: my bro says to me  
TG: the where  
TG: is in ohio  
TG: O FUCKING HIO  
TG: and then he says  
TG: if you wanna know why kid  
TG: its so we can be with roxy and rose  
TG: and then he just fucking walks away all stoic and straight faced looking like he was holding a goddamn egg between his thighs and he wasnt allowed to break it  
TG: and i burst out laughing  
TG: how fucking funny is that  
TG: he said we were shacking up with each other in the jolly state of ohio  
TG: i gotta admit that was a good one i was almost crying from laughter  


You stared at your computer screen endearingly, making no attempts to fight the smile that lifted your cheeks. The boy was either in hilarious denial, or he truly believed his brother was trying to trick him into believing a joke. Your money was on the latter. How could you not find it precious?

TT: Dave.  
TT: Believe it or not, your brother wasn't trying to rustle your jimmies or pull the wool over your eyes.  
TT: He was honestly telling you of already set, upcoming plans.  
TG: oh ha ha lalonde  
TG: very funny  
TG: now that youre in on it too doesnt mean that im gonna fall for some idiotic processed bullshit  
TG: it was funny when bro did it ok now youre just milkin it for all its worth  
TT: If only you could see me convulsing with laughter behind this computer screen.  
TT: You're properly defiant, but that comes as no surprise.  
TT: I'm telling you that it was the truth, Strider.  
TT: We're actually, in one hundred percent honesty, planned to move in together. As a 'family', in Cincinnati, Ohio.  
TT: There was no ruse.  
TT: It's not as if this news pleases me either, Dave. But they've made their decision.

There was a long while where Dave didn't answer. At least, it'd felt like a long while. You presume he'd taken the time to let the news sink in. Long enough had passed before you took it upon yourself to probe for a response.

TT: No, this isn't a dream. Don't bother pinching yourself.  
TG: fuck

You giggled quietly to yourself. Goodness, what a dork.

TG: well fuckin  
TG: fuck fuckity fack  
TG: fuck  
TG: fucky fuck fucker fuck that had ever fuckin copulated  
TG: in all of time  
TG: and the history of ever  
TG: what the fuck man really  
TT: Trust me, if there was anything I could have done to prevent this from taking off, I'd have done it.  
TT: However, my mother has the stubbornness of a menstruating pubescent female who is constantly derailed by her parents, or like a toddler with a new toy approached by various wide eyed on-takers. Any effort I'd made bore no fruit.  
TG: well this is bullshit  
TG: i thought bro was fucking cool  
TG: now were moving to fucking ohio all for some chick  
TG: that hes been talkin to online for what a handful of months  
TG: wtf  
TG: i gtg ill be back whenever  
TT: See you.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

Dave never did tell you what it was he had to attend to at that time.

-

In a blur of light and sound, time blended together and before you had time to decide how you felt about the matter, you found yourself unpacking your things in a new home. It wasn't particularly exceptional, and it wasn't exactly terrible either -- you deemed it decent, as far as living quarters went. Two days later you find yourself back here, first time at a new school, very politely trying your hardest not to snap at the student aide. Which, as it were, had been becoming increasingly difficult. 

Oh, luckily you had zoned out long enough to catch her at her final words. "Well, I believe that about covers it! If you end up having any questions, though why would you, you can always just come to me. I mean of course you could go to a staff member or a teacher as well, but I figure they'd just be dull, and also perhaps we could be friends, or something. If that sat well with you, of course." The student aide was lucky to be so astonishingly pretty, else you surely wouldn't have held back your impatience.

"'Or something,'" you repeat back, distractedly amused. You didn't think she held true interest in being so all-knowing of the school. In fact, you're sure she's not. A sly corner of your mouth pulled up.

"'Or something,'" she repeated back, as if to ensure that yes, she had full intention of including the passive phrase in her proposal. She reinforced this with a slight nod of her head. "If you were interested, that is." Her tone grew in confidence, you don't doubt she can be a downright sassy bitch if she so pleased.

You raised your chin from its resting place on your wrist, "Has anyone ever told you how much you ramble? Just on, and on, and on," you started, sounding exasperated. "What are you even doing, being a student aide?"

That pulled a string. She blinked, "Pardon?"

"What made you want to be a student aid? Or perhaps it was a long-set goal, and you've been hoping to become a high school student aide since you were in diapers."

An obvious glint shimmered in her jade green eyes. She cocked her hip to one side, pursing her lips slightly and replied, "Yes, just as it must have been your life-long dream to develop a habit of nit-picking akin to a nagging old woman." And there it was. You could tell she was holding back, but you didn't bother pushing any further. You got what you wanted.

Holding out a slim delicate wrist, you offered a shake of hands. She took it, politely. "Rose Lalonde, glad to properly introduce myself." Your accompanying smile was warm and sincere.

The trim auburn hair framing her face gave her smile the effect of a tether ball to the gut, "Kanaya Maryam, I'd be lying if I said I found you uninteresting."

You decided you might grow to like your new school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eee guess who's perspective im writing in next OuO  
> this chapter title brought to you by: the book of right on - joanna newsom


End file.
